Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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THE HERALD OF SPRING A little elf on the top of the hill, Stands up straight and oh, so still. As though awaiting an urgent call To be repeated to one and all. He holds a trumpet in one hand, And with it he points across the land. Soft musical notes float faintly near So forward he bends sweet strains to hear. A joyous look spreads o er his face ; Once more he stands up in his place. He is sounding notes both pure and clear. Spreading the news that spring is here ! DOROTHY HOYLE, Form II A. NOTHING IN EXCESS Oh school it is a merry place for those who like work, But school it is a cruel place for us poor folks who shirk. And though I try so hard (it ' s true!) my Latin daily sinks, And as for Mathematics, they do make my brain to shrink. With Grammar, French and Algebra the teachers struggle madly To extricate us from the mire of work that ' s done too badly. The moral of this rhyme will be, as you no doubt will guess. The motto of the wise old Greeks, ' tis, Nothing in Excess . NANCY TYRRELL, Form III A. 19 Kn«n

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18 The Branksome Slogan must stand as an inspiration to the members of the Empire of which he is the Sovereign and particularly to the youth of our country to whom he is the ideal ruler. His appeal to youth may further be attributed to the fact that he readily accepts the enjoyments and opportunities, as well as the heavy burdens of his great position. The world waits expectantly while King Edward shapes in his own admirable way the destinies of the British Empire and indirectly through his influence the destiny of the world. We of this generation support and salute King Edward VIII ; Long may he reign! God Save The King. BETTY MacKERROW (Clan MacGregor). Clansdale Heights Branksome Hall has always been noted for its individuality, and this year has been no exception. It is quite justifiable to say that few schools have acquired, in a short length of time, as many novel additions as has ours. This year, all interest has been centred on our new farm, Clansdale Heights. It was purchased in the fall, and the men set to work immediately, enlarging several of the rooms and installing electricity and running water. At first glance the house itself, which is one hundred years old, appeared to be almost beyond repair, but it is now a very attractive-looking building, both inside and out. The girls themselves were partly responsible for this, as groups went out two or three times a week to paint and paper and clear up the debris left by the workers. Class picnics were held while the weather was fine, and we soon found out that it was possible to take beautiful, long walks through the woods which skirt our property. By the end of the first term, everything was in good shape and ready for the strenuous use it was to receive after Christmas. Clansdale Heights is situated just north of Richmond Hill and is ideal for all kinds of winter sports. The Toronto Ski Club, our nearest neighbour, very kindly allowed us to make use of their trails, and also provided us with our own special badges. Now that summer is approaching, we are again looking forward to our visits to the farm. Never before, in the history of the school, has there been such a strong tie between the day and resident girls. We feel that we are indeed living up to our school song, Up and On . HELEN SUTHERLAND (Clan Mac Alpine).

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20 The Branksome Slogan An Unexpected Ducking One of my favourite occupations has always been to build rafts. Each year the rafts have become a little sturdier, a little more practical, until now they are reasonably safe, but one of my earlier attempts nearly ended in disaster. The day was pleasantly warm when my sister Pat, her friend Chris and I set out for the river a few hundred feet from our cottage. In spite of the niild weather, bits of ice were still whirling down stream carried by the current of the early spring floods. By dint of hard labour we succeeded in putting together a rather wobbly raft, and with much grunting, groaning and pushing, launched it. Pat and Chris thought it would be best for me to try the frail craft first. Nothing loathe to show them I was not afraid, I took off my shoes and socks, rolled up my breeches and gingerly climbed aboard, carefully keeping my weight on my pole. So far so good; it floated. I started off but before I had gone far I came to a shallow spot. I called to Pat and Chris to help me and we pushed and dragged the raft to deeper waters. Once more I clambered aboard. The current became swifter, the ice and water swirled around my feet; and I was unknowingly at the mercy of the river. Suddenly, I saw before me a long, leaning stump standing about three feet above the water. Towards this the current drew me. Frantically I plied my pole but the strength of the current soon wrenched it from my grasp. I about to sit down on the raft when, looking down, I saw that it was partially submerged and that if I sat down I should get decidedly wet. felt that I was now too near the stump for the safety of my head and was Only one alternative remained, and that was to seize hold of the stump, and thus to slacken my speed, so that I could bend down to avoid the obstacle. I reached the stump and grasped it frantically but the current was too swift. My make-shift craft rolled on while I made frenzied efforts to pull myself on to the top of the stump; but, to my horror, I felt it loosen. Then my thoughts flew to the raft and I shouted excitedly to Chris, telling her to take a short-cut and catch it at the bend just beyond. Pat, meanwhile, tried to wade out to me but stopped in dismay when she discovered that the water was too deep. I shivered as I thought of the cold bath I would have to take. One, two, three, go! I dropped. The water closed over my head and I sank. Then desperately I struck out for the surface and for shore. I climbed up on the bank of the river much dampened both in body and spirits, but otherwise none the worse for my adventure. DOROTHY HOYLE, Form II A.